No Time for Tears
by Umeka1
Summary: The Shredder has been defeated, yet somehow, the Turtles find themselves entangled with the Foot clan once again... *Please R&R*
1. Default Chapter

Note: I do not own any of, or anyone related to the Turtles. They're Mirage Studio's property, not mine. I am getting no money whatsoever for writing this story, so please don't sue me! Kapeesh?  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
She sat quietly on the dark rooftop, gazing at the stars; they seemed to be the only thing that could keep her going these days: the only thing that would take her mind off the twists and turns of everyday life. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she realized that she had contradicted herself; she was, once again, thinking about her life. Her gaze shifted to her gloomy surroundings. The sky was truly the one beautiful thing around. The old, mangled buildings were falling apart; boards that were in an equal state had blocked the doors and windows. The only life around was the few bums that had managed to survive, hidden from the world in this ghostly part of town.  
  
Sometimes, she wondered what her life would be like if she had never joined the gang. Would she and her sister have been able to pull themselves out, away from the seclusion of the streets? Would they have become like the other tattered faces she often came across, searching for a place to call home? Wasn't that all they were anyhow? Even within the sanctuary of the Eclipse, she still couldn't help but feel lonely, detached from the world. Apart from her sister, no one could truly understand her feelings. Of course, there was Allie who was always great at cheering her up, but even she couldn't relate to her problems. Allie still had a family outside the group to whom she could always return if in need. Camie was the only real family she had ever known, and now she was gone. Her sister had been out on a run of their new territory, about two months ago, and had not yet returned. She refused to give up hope, sensing that she was still out there, alive and well, perhaps on the way back this very minute.  
  
She was pulled from her thoughts as the sound of footsteps approached. Chad laid his hand onto her shoulder. "Hey Jazz." She didn't bother turning around; the last thing she wanted to do was encourage him. His older cousin had taken them into the gang, away from the streets, when Jasmine was only seven. At that time Camie, who was twelve, did various jobs for mobs around town in order to support herself and her little sister. Chad's cousin found her to be a great spy and gave them a home in the Eclipse. Chad had always had a liking for her, if only because of her physical features. When he was twenty, his cousin was shot in a street brawl, leaving leadership to his relative. To gain her respect, he had offered Camie to share the position. The girl declined, knowing he would then think she owed him the attention he had always wanted. The new leader had barely paid any attention to Jazz until she was about fourteen and her figure had started to change: her upper body getting fuller and her hips gaining some slight curves. As with Camie, he was now constantly tailing her, finding excuses to touch her in ways that were hardly appropriate.  
  
"I figured you might like some company," he continued, sitting down beside her, much too close for comfort. His hand began caressing her upper thigh; Jasmine gave it a disgusted look. She couldn't figure how her sister had put up with this for ten years. Jazz resisted the urge to shove him off the building as his mouth moved towards her neck, inhaling the soft scent of her wavy, jet-black hair. His hard lips pressed against the skin of her neck, moving down to her shoulder until she finally pushed away, frustrated, and turned towards him with a glare. "Dammit Chad, I thought I told you to stay off of me!" she hissed angrily. "Isn't it enough that you can drool over every other girl in this dump?" Chad was enraged at her harsh refusal, but knew better than to pursuit her when her nerves were hot. Instead, he returned her glare as she stomped back towards the ladder leading to the alley where the others waited. He would have the time to teach her a lesson later.  
  
As soon as Jazz reached the bottom, she stiffened. Something wasn't right. Staying close to the shadows, she crept back to the spot the gang had claimed for the night. She was relieved when everything seemed to be fine and made up her mind to get some rest; maybe that would ward off some of the worries on her mind. A small movement from behind caused her to whirl around. Chad had also descended the rooftop and was making his way towards camp… a dark figure following closely behind. Jasmine gasped when she noticed the ring of figures surrounding them, as if they had appeared from thin air. Chad's eyes widened as he also realized their predicament. His silver gun flashed in the moonlight, but it was knocked out of his hand just as it went off, missing its target. The sound of the blast got the attention of the remaining members of the Eclipse who surged into the battle.  
  
****  
  
Four figures glided through the shadows, their footsteps blending with the silence of the night. The light breeze toyed with the tail of their bandanas as they crept soundlessly from rooftop to rooftop, surveying the city below. They were in their own world where the human race rarely entered and yet played a major role in their lives, a world dominated by rooftops and underground passages, only extending into the streets between when necessary, knowing that the people there would not and might never understand.  
  
The leader paused for a moment, still hidden by the cover of darkness, to watch as the moon danced in and out of her blanket of clouds. For them, she might be the only one who could keep their secret from the world that now lay at their feet. The four continued on, scanning the area with all their senses for the cue to reach out, to briefly touch the world that scorned them.  
  
They froze, suddenly, when the unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced the endless silence. Light reflected on metal as they rushed into the dusk.  
  
****  
  
Jasmine quickly ducked to the ground as a long staff flew towards her head. Her assailant did not expect her strong reflexes, and it was already too late when he noticed her leg spinning around behind him, knocking him off balance. He lost hold on the staff and Jazz wasted no time in grabbing it out of his grasp and sending a powerful blow to the side of his neck, making him slump to the floor. Noticing their fallen companion, more of the warriors approached; she did her best to ward them off with her newly acquired weapon.  
  
Jazz noticed that her enemy's technique was not the usual street fighting method. For one, they did not carry any guns. Their movements seemed more controlled, more fluid, than her random kicks and punches. She managed to bash someone's head with the long stick, kicking another in the groin at the same time. Looking around, she knew they would soon be overpowered. Most of her team was holding up pretty well, but they were all weakening noticeably. These fighters were experienced, and had the advantage of the weapons. Some of the Eclipse had guns, but it was impossible to reach for them during the onslaught without being taken down in the moment of hesitation.  
  
Jasmine herself was considerably out numbered. The blow to her back came unexpectedly, and she was distracted long enough for them to grab and pin her to the wall. She answered the attack with a hard jab to the ribs, freeing herself just in time to avoid the strange dagger aiming for her neck. Though it missed its original target, she screamed in pain as the cold metal pierced her shoulder. Expecting another blow, Jazz swiftly rolled away from the mob, momentarily ignoring the violent throbbing in her right arm. This corner was not the best spot to recuperate; she was still in easy view of the battle, yet she lacked the strength to move further. Luckily, but strangely, the black figures had been sidetracked from the group. The distraction left just enough time for the Eclipse to flee, leaving Jazz behind. She could feel the blood pouring over her arm and her mind became hazy. Though the clash was directly in front of her, she couldn't quite make out the mob's new interest with her spinning vision. The sounds of battle faded into the distance as she slipped into a dark oblivion.  
  
****  
  
When they reached the site of the hustle, the four warriors hastily leaped into the fight, noticing their old opponents. The black-clad men shifted their attention to the newcomers, leaving the weary gang members to gape at what they saw in the dim lighting. They wasted no time in taking their retreat once the presence of these strange creatures registered in their minds. Chad gasped at the sight. They were quite short in appearance and seemed to have some sort of armor protecting their backs from the ruthless attacks that kept coming towards them. From what he could see in the dark alley, their skin had a tint of green, and their faces had a strange form under their masks. Two things were for certain: one, these were not your regular street thugs, and two, whatever they were, they were not human.  
  
He stuck around just long enough to witness the last of the black figures fall. Silently, he hurried after the others as the sirens echoed in the distance.  
  
As the mysterious warriors scouted the remainder of the area, one of them noticed a girl still slumped back in a dark corner, unconscious. He cautiously approached her. She had lost much blood, and would need immediate attention. Taking a small strip of cloth from the hem of her shirt, he tied it around the wound to prevent further blood loss. He motioned to the others to come over. After taking a glimpse, another stuck his weapons back into his belt and carefully hauled the limp body over his shoulder.  
  
The one who had led them seemed skeptical about taking her with them. "This isn't a good idea; that group's gonna come looking for her soon enough, and besides, you saw who they were fighting against."  
  
"Against being the key word there, Leo." The one carrying the girl impatiently replied. "The police will find her if we don't take her out of this mess. We can all tell that she ain't the bad guy here." The siren's wails got louder as the police cars approached. Though reluctantly, the other agreed. They had to get out of there fast.  
  
"Fine, take her but hurry; we've got to go." Spotting a manhole cover further down the alley, he made his way over and pulled it from its bed in the pavement, allowing his brothers to climb down into the musky passages that led home. 


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I do not own any of, or anyone related to the Turtles. They're Mirage Studio's property, not mine. I am getting no money whatsoever for writing this story, so please don't sue me! Kapeesh?  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
When she awoke, Jasmine found herself lying on an old couch, covered up to her neck in blankets. The fiery pain that had ripped through her shoulder earlier had subsided considerably and she sat up to examine her wound. Her arm had been wrapped and bandaged. Looking around, she searched her mind for some clue of her whereabouts, but the last thing she remembered was the battle, and nothing before that rang a bell. She figured the group must have found her and taken her to some sort of haven after the fight. Jazz glanced around once more, expecting to see familiar faces, but the room was empty. Dim lights on the ceiling glowed just enough for her to make out her surroundings. The only furnishings in the area were a small table with a lamp on it, a well-kept lazy-boy chair, and a television set sitting in one corner. It was too dark to see much, but she could tell that there were no windows anywhere in the space. Two passages led out of the small room, as well as a door on a wall, not too far from the couch. She considered calling out for someone, but decided against it, not knowing whether or not this was enemy territory.  
  
Slipping quietly off the couch, Jasmine made her way towards the door to explore the situation. A sudden noise startled her as she reached for the doorknob. It sounded as if it had come from one of the passages. She squinted, trying to make out its source in the darkness. The faint light barely entered the pitch-blackness of the tunnel, making it impossible to see more than a foot into the gloom. She promptly turned the knob, but felt something push the door closed in front of her before she had a chance to run out. Turning, she could roughly make out the outline in the darkness. It spoke to her in a calm tone. "Leaving already?"  
  
"Like you're gonna let me." Jazz responded sarcastically, eyeing his hand on the door. She gasped as she noticed it only held three fingers. The creature eyed her with an amused glint in his eyes as she got she got into a fighting stance. Jasmine watched, surprised, as he stepped away from the entrance. Dropping her stance, she looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Wrong there, kiddo. Go right ahead; don't let me stop you." Something was wrong with this picture. Jasmine shot him a suspicious look and cautiously opened the door. All she saw was pitch-blackness; the only sound was the echo of dripping water. Her captor chuckled at her obvious puzzlement making her harshly fling the door shut and turn to him with a look of irritation.  
  
"Where the hell am I?" she spoke loudly, drawing immediate attention to the scene.  
  
She jumped as a new voice came from behind her. "This is our home. If you want it in more precise terms, welcome the New York City sewer system." The last phrase seemed frighteningly serious. Not sure whether to believe it, she looked into the strange face, searching for an answer. As if reading her thoughts, the lamp suddenly came on, flooding the room with a pale light.  
  
Jazz froze at the sight in front of her. Her initial shock quickly turned to amazement as she studied the beings before her. "Oh my god, you're…you're…" The words wouldn't surface.  
  
"Turtles." The one she had first encountered finished the thought. She was too caught up in studying the swirling patterns on their shells to notice that they were sizing her up as well. She looked up into the turtle's face to notice he was wearing an orange bandana over his eyes. He tilted his head to the side. "So, you're not gonna faint?" Jazz quickly dropped her gaze when she realized she had been staring. She wanted to believe she was still out cold in the alley, that this was all a part of her imagination.  
  
Looking at them, however, she knew that nothing so realistic could only be a dream. The light highlighted every muscle in their well-toned bodies. She couldn't help but be in awe of these creatures; they were so eccentric and yet so magnificent all at once. If the way they were built wasn't enough to indicate they were fighters, then their attire was. Each wore different color eye-masks and wristbands and was equipped with protective battle gear and weapons. Examining them, Jasmine recognized a staff resembling the one she had used as well as what seemed to be a pair of swords, both worn strapped across the shell. A pair of very familiar three- pronged daggers on the last turtle's belt reminded her of the attack as another sharp wave of pain shot through her arm.  
  
She attempted to hide the pain, but the worried look on their faces told her she had failed. The turtle with the purple bands worded his concern. "Your arm okay?"  
  
Jazz looked down at it and noticed blood seeping through the bandage. "My arm is fine!" it was an obvious lie but none of them pressed the matter. "Look, why don't you just tell me what the hell I'm doing here in the sewers talking to four giant turtles?"  
  
"You were injured and needed immediate attention. We feared it would be too long before the police arrived." The blue masked turtle spoke in an authoritative tone.  
  
"Why were you there in the first place? I mean…who are you?" She looked at each of them in turn, studying their expressions and awaiting an answer. They looked to the one who had spoken last as he began.  
  
"My name is Leonardo." His face hid any emotion, but there was something about him that told Jasmine he wasn't sure what to think of her.  
  
The next one to speak was the turtle in orange. "I'm Michaelangelo, but you can call me Mike." He seemed amused at her apparent frustration. A small mock-bow caused the corners of her mouth to twitch. Mike smiled broadly, pleased at the reaction.  
  
Jasmine turned away to the one in purple, bearing the staff. "Donatello," came the quiet reply.  
  
The last turtle with the daggers and red bands observed her without responding. They held eye contact for a moment before introductions, dubious of each other. "Raphael," he responded, still holding the gaze.  
  
The link broke when Leonardo spoke again, briefly answering the last of her question. "We happened to notice the scene and you looked like you could use the help." He didn't add the real reason they so quickly jumped into the fight, not wishing to give away too much before knowing it was safe.  
  
Jazz, however, realized she wasn't getting the full story. "That doesn't explain why they completely dropped the fight against us when you arrived," she persisted. Leo sighed inwardly; he hadn't expected her to be this observant.  
  
"We do not give information to strangers."  
  
"But you take them into your house and cure 'em?" A stern look from the turtle told her to drop it. "Okay, okay. My name's Jasmine, but most people call me Jazz. Happy now?" She waited for him to continue but he just watched her, expecting the same.  
  
"Why did they attack?" he hinted. Jazz looked him in the eye, unsure of what to say. There was not much to tell.  
  
"To tell the truth, I really don't know. I was walking back to base when all of a sudden, we were surrounded." Raphael looked at her doubtfully from where he sat. He knew the enemy far to well than for them to pull a stunt like that. Donatello was the one to voice his brother's thoughts.  
  
"The Foot aren't known to attack without reason." Confusion crossed the girl's face but disappeared, remembering the name. Chad had mentioned them not too long ago, but she couldn't quite remember what it was about. The only thing she could think of was the usual trafficking of drugs and other illegal matters, something Jazz had never been overly proud of. It was a living. When she and her sister had first joined the Eclipse, the only reason was for protection on the streets and to have a sense of something they could never remember having: family.  
  
She cleared her mind and looked once again to the turtles. "You called them the Foot; I've heard of them. It was about some sort of delivery we were supposed to make…" she paused for a second, trying to remember the details. "We didn't know why they wanted us for the job, we didn't really care; they offered money, and a whole lot of it. I can only assume that we didn't get it in on time." As hard as she tried, the rest of the incident would not come to mind. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a sigh. "That's all I know, I swear."  
  
Leonardo nodded slowly, deciding to accept her story. That did not mean he trusted her; after all, she had just admitted to dealing with the Foot, even if she did not seem to know anything about the clan. Jasmine's thoughts shifted from the dealings, to the clan, to the battle. Their side was losing strength; she was forced against wall, their opponents' sudden change of target. "What the hell did they have against you anyways?"  
  
They were each about to speak, but an Asiatic voice from behind interrupted them. "It is a long story." Turning, Jazz found herself face to face with something that startled her even more than the turtles. The rat smiled and motioned her towards the couch as he sat in the large chair. Once she had pushed aside the blankets and settled herself down, he began. "My name is Splinter, and I see you have already met my sons," he indicated the turtles who had also seated themselves around the room.  
  
Leonardo, who had placed himself beside the old rat, introduced the awestruck girl. "Master, this is Jasmine."  
  
Before anyone had a chance to continue, Jasmine had to clear something. "Master? Isn't that a title for martial artists?" The reply came in nods. I guess that would explain the weapons, she thought, remembering a movie she had watched about rival clans in Japan. "That would mean the Foot are too; but here in New York?"  
  
Looking into her deep, dark eyes, Splinter began the lengthy story of their origin. "The Foot are a clan of ninja that originated many years ago in Japan. When I was still no more than an animal, my sensei, Hamato Yoshi, and his companion, Oroku Nagi, were students in the clan. Both were true masters in the art and everyday I would watch as Yoshi trained, memorizing the most intricate of movements in my sub consciousness. For many years, things went by normally, until one day when everything began to fall apart. Yoshi and Nagi both fell for the same woman; her name was Tang Shen. She, on the other hand, loved only my master. Nagi became jealous and the years of friendship were soon forgotten. Yoshi came home one day to find that Nagi had broken in and was beating Tang Shen. In a fit of rage, Yoshi threw himself at Nagi, killing him. According to the ninja code, Yoshi was forced to commit seppuku or flee the country for the crime against his clan member. He and Tang Shen found refuge here, in New York City, where they believed they would find peace and prosperity.  
  
"Nagi's brother, Oroku Saki, joined the Foot after news of his brother's death, swearing revenge on those who caused him this early end. After years of training, Saki was made head of a separate branch of the clan: the one in New York. This being the perfect opportunity to quench his need for vengeance, he set out to find Hamato Yoshi. It was not long before he reached his destination."  
  
The scene repeated itself once again in the old rat's mind. A look of long kept sorrow swept over his eyes as he went on. "Yoshi was away when a knock came to his door. Tang Shen walked over, oblivious to the danger that lay behind. I watched as Saki lashed out at Shen until her body was nothing but a heap, bloody and broken on the floor. This is how Yoshi found her when he returned; just minutes later. He ran to her side, tears streaking his cheeks. Oroku Saki stepped out of the shadows to face my master. Yoshi backed away in shock as the ghost of his past pulled a bloodied sword from his dogi. My cage was sent to the ground during the ruthless struggle. I managed to escaped, looking back only to see Saki's killing stroke.  
  
"I did not rest until I was blocks away in a dark sewer passage in which I made my home. I spent the next few days scavenging the alleys for what little food there was. It was during one of these hunts that I witnessed the accident; a large truck swerved wildly on the road, barely missing a cyclist, who, in turn, fell into a small boy coming out of a pet shop. The boy was carrying a bowl of four turtles that shattered when coming in contact with the asphalt, sending them down the water drain along with a canister that must have fallen from the truck during the incident."  
  
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what turtles he was talking about, but the greatest mystery was yet to be solved. Jazz listened attentively as he continued. "I rushed down to find the turtles covered in a bright glowing substance. Using an old coffee can, I picked them up and hurriedly took them with me to cleanse their bodies of the ooze. Within the next week, the turtles had tripled in size; to my surprise, so had I. I soon recalled my master's ninjitsu and found myself drawing his knowledge from my mind and, after some practice, capable of performing a number of the most difficult katas. I had discovered a way to avenge my master's death." Splinter stole a glance at each of his students; they had changed so much, yet so little since that day, seventeen years ago.  
  
Leonardo was still striving for perfection, his star student. Now that the old rat had taught him everything he knew, he could only watch as his pupil drove himself to his limits. Michaelangelo still had his playful spirit and love for life. Although he was slacking a bit in his practice, he had found talents other than martial arts that he pursued such as his writing. Raphael's ability to control his anger externally had much improved, but the old rat knew that his fiery son continued to battle it inside, pushing his feelings downward and locking them away from others. Donatello, well, he had practically stopped training altogether. He had never been one for violence, but Splinter hoped he would not forget his teachings with all the time spent on his inventions and computer. As much as he hated to admit it, the brothers had begun to drift apart now that their task was complete.  
  
From the look on his face, Jasmine could tell he was not about to say more, but the abrupt ending had left her somewhat confused. "So you're saying that this 'ooze' transformed you into what you are now?" She searched them for an answer.  
  
Donnie was the first to speak up, being the one who knew best on this subject. "Well actually, it was more like a radioactive substance we more commonly call mutagen. You see, the mutagen formed a chemical bond between the turtle DNA in our bloodstreams and common human DNA, therefore giving us characteristics of both species." He paused to make sure she was still with him. "It basically sped up the natural evolution process, altering it just a bit."  
  
It was still hard to believe the facts, but Jazz was beginning to think that they were more than they appeared. And, in fact, they were. "So the increased brain capacity let you learn things that you, as a regular rat and turtles, weren't capable of." Even Donatello was impressed at her quick understanding of the matter. "Like ninjitsu, for example."  
  
"That is correct." Leonardo agreed. Raphael was still battling with himself whether or not to trust this near stranger; she was not as ignorant as he knew most street punks could be.  
  
"And now you're using that knowledge to get revenge on Saki?" This was the last thing that needed clearing up.  
  
"It's what we used to get revenge. Though Fearless Leader's attempt was a bit more successful than some of us." Leonardo ignored Raphael's remark.  
  
She couldn't hold back the thought as it slipped from her lips, "Well that explains why they were so pissed at you!" Raph and Mikey couldn't help but smirk at her straightforwardness. They quickly caught themselves at their master's glare. Donatello's mind was somewhere else, something that happened quite frequently these days. The fierce battle crept back into Leonardo's vision. He had been partially withdrawn from the group ever since his encounter with the Shredder, questioning his life's meaning now that what he had trained and prepared for since he was able to walk upright was over. For a while, the room was silent; each absorbed in their own thoughts.  
  
Jazz gazed at a spot in front of her. Though she spoke of her current situation, the question had been lingering in everyone's mind for months. "So what do I do now?" 


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I do not own any of, or anyone related to the Turtles. They're Mirage Studio's property, not mine. I am getting no money whatsoever for writing this story, so please don't sue me! Kapeesh?  
  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Chad slumped down onto the barstool with an irritated sigh. The rest of the gang was in no better mood ever since the fight. He fiddled with the small gun in his hand while the barman poured him another drink. The man crossed his arms as he watched the boy chug the beer down in a few gulps.  
  
"No luck, huh?"  
  
Chad tossed the silver gun in the air once, then placed it back into his pocket. "S'all I found; those damned bastards made me lose it." Leaning against the counter, the man grunted in response. He didn't mind the boy carrying a gun; no one on this side of town went without one. Besides, he'd known the Eclipse for years. "Police probably got her."  
  
After the retreat, they had all regrouped at the usual meeting point: a small rundown bar about six blocks away from the battle where the Eclipse did most of their business with the owner, Parker. It wasn't until the group had dressed their wounds and settled down that they noticed Jasmine's presence lacking. When a small party returned to the site, the police had already been, taking most of the evidence with them. While searching under piles of debris that had been overturned during the incident, Chad had recovered his gun. The rest of the search was futile. Traces of blood on the pavement were the only indications of the struggle. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, kicking the trash across the alley. "No point in staying around. Lets head back." They would check around in the morning. For now, Parker had offered them the place to stay.  
  
Parker was getting anxious to hear the whole story; from what he had heard so far, he could only guess at who these attackers might have been. He pulled away from the counter, taking a seat next to Chad. There were no other customers to assist; with the current dilemma, he had closed shop for the night. The rest of the gang either slept or were recounting their side of the events. "So what the hell happened back there?" Chad looked up from his fifth beer to Parker who was lighting a cigarette.  
  
"Give me a shot." He inhaled deeply and handed the joint back, shaking his head. "I don't know; they just appeared. Just fuckin' appeared, outta nowhere!" He threw the bottle down, watching it shatter on the hard floor, somehow letting it calm his nerves. "They started beating the crap out of us until they suddenly started going against these freaks who, from what I saw, beat the crap out of them." He sat, studying the broken glass intently, replaying the strange events in his head. Parker regarded him slowly, the short account had not given him much to go by, but it was enough.  
  
"Foot."  
  
Chad gave him a confused expression at the odd statement. Parker jogged his memory by going into a small vault under the counter and pulling out a vial. "The stuff was for them." It was more of a statement than a question. "Shit! I should've known." With nothing breakable within reach, he slammed his fist onto the countertop. "We'll check the police tomorrow." With that, Chad got up and took post near the door for first watch, leaving the others to settle in for the night.  
  
It was nearly four hours later when it happened. Chad had just left his watch and was asleep on the floor, not far from the entrance. The new guard stayed beside him, straddling a chair and trying hard not to doze off. He kept his eyes on the door until sleep finally claimed him.  
  
The ninjas were silent as they crept into the musky barroom. Carefully and effortlessly slipping over the ignorant bodies, they made their way from the window over to Chad's resting form. Depositing a roll of paper where it was sure to be found they, slid back into the shadows of the night, just as quickly as they had come.  
  
****  
  
Jazz didn't know how long she had been lying there, staring up at the concrete ceiling. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get to sleep. The events of that day had been too strange; that or the fact that she had already been out of it about six hours since the turtles had found her. Hell, for all she knew, it was already broad daylight outside; it was impossible to tell from down here. She wondered how much longer the others would sleep. The plan had been that she would stay until it was dark enough for them to lead her back to the Eclipse. It wasn't that she couldn't find her way alone; these parts were quite familiar to her, almost as much as the back or her hand. She figured they felt better knowing she was back safely and that the story of her temporary disappearance didn't include them. The threat in their voices let her know better than to do so.  
  
Sighing, she rolled over again, stuffing her face into a pillow and covering her head with the blankets. The one thing she hated most about silence was the fact that it made her think. It was something she found herself doing more and more these days: thinking about everything and nothing. First her parents: killed before she was even four years old. Then her sister's sudden disappearance, and now, how she found herself being rescued by a team of turtles. God, if anyone's life was as messed up as hers, she wondered at how they could keep from putting a bullet to their head. But she had to admit, from what she knew of these turtles, they were pretty amazing creatures. Never once had she imagined that something like this could exist; they each seemed so unique and yet so human.  
  
A loud crash from the direction of the turtles' departure startled Jasmine from her thoughts. Curiosity and boredom got the better of her and she got up to investigate.  
  
****  
  
Michaelangelo quickly pulled himself away from the table Donatello had sent him flying into and instantly blocked another attack coming towards his head, causing his brother to momentarily lose his balance and making it easy for him to send an attack of his own. They all noticed Jazz enter the large makeshift gym but did not show it, keeping their concentration to stay on guard.  
  
The girl watched in awe as the brothers exchanged blows that rarely hit their targets. From what she saw, it was hard to believe that anyone had a chance against them other than each other. An unexpected sidekick knocked Raphael down, but it only made him push back harder and she could tell Leo was having a hard time blocking the lightning quick attacks. Mikey was trying hard to keep up with his brother while showing off for the new audience. Splinter supervised from the sidelines; making certain the sparring did not get overly rough. It was rare for them to train together these days, but with the reappearance of the Foot, it was a necessity. The two younger brothers would have to re-polish some of their moves, but altogether, he was pleased that they had kept in shape since the battles became less and less frequent. He saw Jasmine and smiled at her obvious admiration. Although you couldn't tell by looking around, the wise rat had learned to tell time according to his senses and it was getting late. Knowing the girl would want to return home, he called an end to the spar.  
  
"Rokuni!" The turtles stopped in their tracks and bowed to their master.  
  
Michaelangelo turned to the figure in the doorway, grinning, while the others made their way to the toppled table, grabbing towels from the floor. "Look who's up!"  
  
Jasmine smirked sarcastically. "You actually think I'd been sleeping through this racket? I never knew 'resting up' meant working yourself to a sweat." The turtle looked at her apologetically before turning to join his brothers.  
  
"Besides," Raphael added, throwing a towel over his shoulder, "we don't usually sleep at five in the afternoon."  
  
Jazz put her hands on her hips, then lowered her right arm at the pain. "And you think I do?" Raphael just smiled and started towards the entranceway.  
  
"What, it's not your bedtime yet?" The mocking tone in his voice made her throw a sharp look at him, also earning him a harsh glare from his master.  
  
The rat apologized for his son's actions once he had left the room. "I'm sorry we awakened you; we meant to leave you, thinking you might need the rest after your injury."  
  
"That's fine, I never got to sleep anyhow; I'm not used to sleeping over six hours and, well, I guess that's about how long I was out for." The old rat smiled and excused himself to his meditation chamber, leaving her with the three others. She looked the space over again, noting the pile of wooden weapons in a corner along with the table and a worn punching bag on the opposite side. "So what is this place?"  
  
"This room is our dojo. It's used for training and sparring."  
  
Jazz walked past the turtles and over to the stash of weapons on the floor, picking up a bo. "This stuff sure comes in handy; I wouldn't have lasted as long yesterday without one of these." Twirling the staff with her good arm, she tried a few moves, imitating those she had seen Donatello do against Mike.  
  
"Left handed?" He watched her carefully from under his purple mask. Leonardo did the same; she definitely had some potential. Swinging the stick into the air one last time, Jasmine set it down with the rest of its kind and shook her head.  
  
"Nah; just can't use this one much right now." Looking down to her bandaged shoulder, she was relieved to see that it wasn't bleeding. As long as it healed soon, she wasn't worried about it; she had gotten more serious damage in the past. Blades were hardly a problem when you had come face to face with bullets. She shrugged off the thought. "I'm gonna have to get one of those."  
  
"Don't you have a weapon? I mean, most gang members I've met are armed." Michaelangelo asked in between gulps of water from a bottle.  
  
"Yeah, I got one. Not with me, but somewhere back with the others… I guess. I don't use it much; I hate guns."  
  
"Good thing you don't have it now; Leo'd have a fit." Leonardo shrugged off the comment and started walking towards the passageway.  
  
"I'm going to go wash up."  
  
Jazz stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, when are we heading back?"  
  
The turtle kept walking as he responded, "As soon as we're all cleaned up and ready." 


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I do not own any of, or anyone related to the Turtles. They're Mirage Studio's property, not mine. I am getting no money whatsoever for writing this story, so please don't sue me! Kapeesh?  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
As they rounded the last corner, Leonardo motioned them all to stick to the shadows as he went to investigate. The small building was dark, but the stale smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the air. Sneaking around to the front of the bar, he was surprised to see that no one was around. A bright, neon sign reading the word 'closed' hung on the window, the only light emitting from the room. He crept back to the others' hiding spot signaling to come forward. "You sure this is the place? It looks pretty closed up to me."  
  
"Of course I'm sure," Jazz whispered back harshly. "Look, lets just go check around, if no one's there, it shouldn't matter, right?" She walked up to the door and yanked on the handle to find it locked. Digging through her jeans, she found a small pocketknife and began messing with the lock, not worried about being in plain view of anyone who passed. She kicked the wood and threw down her knife when her attempts failed. "Damn door."  
  
A figure in a hat and trench coat came behind her, gently pushing her out of the way. Raphael grinned when the lock gave off a satisfying click, and twirled his sai in the air before replacing it in his belt. Jasmine pushed passed him into the space, nearly tripping over a chair, the others following close behind. The turtles cringed when her voice echoed through the silent room. "Chad! Parker! You back there?" To the turtles' relief, there was no reply.  
  
"Keep it down, will ya? We don't exactly want to attract the whole neighborhood," Raph said, exploring their surroundings.  
  
"This is just great." The phrase lacked enthusiasm. She began searching for something behind the counter while the rest of the group scanned the room for any clues to the situation.  
  
"Any where else they might have gone to?" Donatello asked, turning back to the girl.  
  
After having found what she was looking for, Jazz came back up and took a seat at the barstool. "Not that I know of; our back up plan has always started with meeting up here." She fiddled with the top of her beer bottle until the cap popped off.  
  
Michaelangelo lifted a sweater from a seat near a pool table in the back and tossed it to Leo. "Looks like someone has been here not too long ago." His brother nodded, examining a broken bottle around which the floor still had traces of liquid showing. Obviously, no one had bothered to clean it before their departure.  
  
"It doesn't make sense, though. Even if they hadn't come back here, Parker would still have been around. He never closes shop this early; usually, he doesn't close until dawn, then opens back up around eight." She took a long swallow and set the drink aside, noticing everyone's eyes were on her. "What?"  
  
"Got any more of those?" Raphael asked, indicating the beer.  
  
"Raph." Leo warned before turning his attention back to the girl; she couldn't be older than eighteen. "Aren't you under age?"  
  
She shrugged. "Seventeen; so what? You're not gonna stop me, are you?" The two stared each other down for a moment before dropping the gaze.  
  
"Anyways, it's none of your business what I do."  
  
"If you're staying with us it is, and from the looks of things, that's the way it's going to go." From the tone in his voice, she felt it wouldn't be wise to contradict him.  
  
The uncomfortable moment was broken by Donatello's voice. "Hey guys, what's this?" He pointed towards a small sheet of torn paper lying on the countertop, not far from Jasmine's seat. She grabbed it up and unfolded it, studying the writing without understanding the words. "What does it say?"  
  
"It's got some sort of weird symbol on the bottom," she responded, deliberately avoiding the question. The turtle reached for it and she handed it to him, waiting for the translation.  
  
"Strange..." he looked from the sheet to the girl before continuing, while the others looked to him expectantly. "It's from the Foot…"  
  
Before he could go on, Jazz interrupted, "What did they do to them?"  
  
He studied her carefully again. His brothers just stood, confused. "According to this, the Foot didn't do anything to your gangster friends; it seems more like they're allied." That comment brought their eyes to her like a magnet. Leonardo urged him to read it aloud. "It says—at least what's left of it—'bring the merchandise by ten and we will negotiate'; signed the Foot."  
  
"Care to explain?" The leader's eyes searched her for a reaction as the note was passed on.  
  
"I don't know anything about this," her voice was cold as she emphasized every word, still failing to subdue their accusing glares. "I wasn't here today, in case you forgot."  
  
"Yeah and there doesn't appear to be a date on the paper either," Raphael shot back, glancing over Donnie's shoulder.  
  
"I've never seen that paper before. I don't know what the hell this is about!" Her nerves were starting to wear very thin.  
  
"Seems to me you don't know much for having been in this gang, for what? Four years?"  
  
"It's ten years and that has nothing to do with this." He was about to counter her, but she prevented it. "What, you think this is a trap or something? Well if it was, don't you think that someone would actually be here right now? Hell, it's not like I can take you out by myself, but if that's what you want, then bring it on!" She didn't flinch as the point of a katana was held dangerously close to her neck.  
  
"I don't think you want to try that," was the only reply.  
  
"Hey, Leo, chill man." Mikey grabbed his brother's wrist, pulling the katana away from Jazz. "She's said plenty of times that she has no clue what it's about, don't you think she might be telling the truth?"  
  
Leonardo turned to see his brother's worried face. God, what am I doing? He thought, re-sheathing his sword. He had no right to threaten this girl; she was not armed and as suspicious as it seemed that she knew nothing of her gang's involvement with the Foot clan, he could still tell that she was honest in her unawareness. What' s gotten into me! He was still unable to remove the rough tone from his voice as he spoke. "Let's go." When his brothers had followed him out into the streets, he looked back to see that Jazz had not left her position on the stool and was watching them leave. Leo could tell it would be a long time before she forgave him, or even tried to understand his point, but he also knew that the feeling would be mutual. Raphael was already out of sight, and his brother was not sure whether he would even return home until morning. Michaelangelo and Donatello waited patiently in the nearest patch of shadow for their brother to follow. The turtle let out a loud sigh and faced the girl. "You coming?" She sat for a while, staring back at him, her face devoid of all emotion, until she jumped down from her seat and marched past him out of the bar.  
  
Jasmine followed them wordlessly. What was there to say? She couldn't think of why she had decided to go back; they had just threatened her life. At last, she came to the conclusion that she was, finally, losing it. After all, what sane person would give up a relatively normal life to hang out with a bunch of oversized reptiles? Normal. She laughed at the thought. Who was she kidding; she realized that she couldn't think of anything in her life that came close to being normal. Deep down, she hoped she was making the right decision. Descending into the sewers, she prepared herself for the stench that was sure to come. The sound of her feet trudging through the tunnels was the only thing heard. Even in their home environment, the ninja's still followed the rules of silence, if not invisibility. As it was, Jazz could hardly see two feet in front of her. And she thought she lived in the pits! She made sure not to lose sight of them as they switched tunnels once again. It was no wonder why they had chosen this spot in which to live; no one would ever find them. She lost count of the number of turns they took a long while ago but when the strong odor began to fade she knew they were approaching their destination. The door was well hidden, camouflaged with the shadows that surrounded it. Jasmine squinted on instinct as the light from inside the den seeped out into the darkness of the passage.  
  
The sound of his sons' entrance brought their master from his meditation chamber. When he stepped into the main area of the lair he was surprised, though it did not show, to find Jasmine closing the door behind her. He could not help but notice that she seemed to be keeping her distance from Leonardo, as well as he from her. After returning his sons' greetings, the rat turned to face his eldest student who approached him to report the outing. At the mention of the girl's name, he turned to glance towards her, but when their eyes met, she was quick to turn on her heals and follow Michaelangelo into the kitchen, located off the main room.  
  
The sight of food made her stomach grumble, reminding her of how long ago it had been since she last ate. The beer she had consumed earlier didn't help the matter, making her somewhat faint. Normally, she could have handled a few without even showing it, but the alcohol didn't hold well in an empty stomach. The turtle pulled out a bag of chips and smirked, "You hungry? Your stomach sounds like an earthquake's going on in there!" Jasmine made an attempt to catch the bag as he tossed it to her, but she had forgotten about her injury and dropped her arm, doing her best to mask the pain as the chips cluttered to the floor.  
  
"Sorry…" she mumbled, kneeling down next to Michaelangelo to pick up the scattered mess. This had not been a good day.  
  
"No prob," the turtle dismissed it without a second thought, pulling another bag of snacks from somewhere in the vicinity. Jasmine pushed herself back to her feet, munching on the few potato chips that had remained in the sack. "Hey, you wanna watch some tv?" She looked up at Mike who made a gesture toward the couch. Following his gaze, she could see Splinter eying the note the group had discovered earlier while Leonardo stood close by, his attention shifting from his master to the kitchen. Jazz noticed this, and although she would be grateful for something to do, she didn't wish to put herself in a situation that could snap her fuse, and shook her head. "Well," he continued, "Don-san is in his lab if you want to join him."  
  
The girl gave a short laugh, "I'd fall asleep in a second!" She hadn't been around computers too frequently in her lifetime, but they had never interested her in the least.  
  
Mikey smiled. "Yeah, me too. So what? You tired now? You won't get much rest over where I'm heading, but we probably won't be going to bed for another few hours if you want to hole up in the back." Jazz thought about this for a minute. She wasn't tired at all, but it would get her away from the others and the time alone wouldn't hurt to think things through. Mike took her glance to the passage as a 'yes' and pulled her towards it. "Come on, I'll show ya; you can use my bed."  
  
Walking into the room, he pulled on a cord hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room with a dim glow. What she had thought was another corridor turned out to be two adjacent subway cars filled with the turtles' miscellaneous possessions. "This is it; Leo and Raph sleep in the next room. If you need anything, just holler." With that he was gone, leaving her to make herself comfortable on the bed she guessed was his. Guessing probably wasn't the right word; there was an obvious line between tidiness and chaos making it easy to tell which side of the room belonged to whom. She headed to the small futon that was surrounded with piles of comic books and magazines as well as a few cd's. The rest of the room was neatly arranged with books stacked near the well-made bed. After a few minutes of eyeing the various posters and gadgets around the room, Jazz turned to study the small collection of comics on the floor. Not many of them caught her interest but she picked some of them up and sifted through the pictures to pass the time. Her eyes hardly budged from the page when she heard the front door slam, soon followed with someone rummaging through the other car. She pretended not to notice when Raphael stormed into the room and eyed her menacingly before starting to shuffle through the pile next to Mikey's futon until he came up with a magazine that she had not noticed and tucked it into his trench coat before she could tell what was so important about it. Quickly replacing a fedora onto his head, he began his way back towards the entrance that led to the rest of the sewers.  
  
His master's voice calling his name prevented him from going any further. Hiding his impatience, Raphael turned to face his teacher who motioned for him to step back inside. "My son, you must understand that it is much more dangerous under the current circumstances to venture out into the city…" the turtle opened his mouth to speak but the rat shushed him, "…we do not yet know the purpose of the Foot's sudden return and it would be best to keep low until we find the cause." Jasmine listened closely, leaning on the old subway car's doorframe.  
  
"Look, Master; Casey asked me to get some of his stuff back to him and he's waiting for me topside." He paused briefly, awaiting Splinter's approval. "I did this all the time before the Foot disappeared; what's so different now?"  
  
Splinter studied his son; he knew it was unfair for him to be kept underground, yet something about the situation disturbed the old rat. There had been times before where he wished he would have trusted his instincts, but thinking it through, he knew that they would never be capable of shining light on these events without leaving the lair. He heaved a sigh before yielding to his student. "You may go, but be sure to return before dawn." Raphael once again began to leave but was interrupted as Jasmine spoke up, drawing his attention.  
  
"If you're going up, then I am too."  
  
Raphael wouldn't even consider it and turned to her both irritated and angry; he had already been delayed. "You had your chance to stay up there and you chose against it."  
  
"What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and hope somebody showed up? I'm not stupid enough to stay out alone in that part of town."  
  
He didn't waste a beat to shoot back. "Yeah, well you are dumb enough to get involved with the street gangs, nearly get yourself killed, have us save your butt and then act like we owe ya something. All you've done is given us more trouble than we already had."  
  
"Maybe you should stay out of other people's business if you don't like the results. It's your own damn fault for getting into this; I didn't ask you to march in and save me. I would have been fine if you had just left me alone! I've gotten through a whole lot worse. And if you think I'm so much trouble, then why don't you just let me go up and leave?!"  
  
"Let you tell the rest of the Foot where we are so they can chase us out? Listen, bitch, I've already had to go through that once and I'm not about to let it happen again!"  
  
Splinter would not let this go any further. The girl was a guest in their home, and until any hard evidence turned up against her, she would be treated that way. "That is enough!" He raised his voice, breaking the argument, but the relentless glare between the two refused to subside. "Raphael, Jasmine will accompany you to the surface if you wish to go." The turtle faced his master, disbelieving what he had heard.  
  
The stern, set look told him it was better not to argue, but he didn't bother concealing his displeasure. "It will be safer for both of you this way." Raphael watched Splinter, wanting to walk away from him, but knowing better to do so.  
  
"Safer? She's linked with the Foot! The safest thing would be to keep her down here on constant watch."  
  
"You will be keeping an eye on her and if she starts making trouble, I'm sure you will manage to handle it." The rat made a small smile; he knew he had won. One thing Raphael could not bear was the thought of being beaten by a girl and he would do anything to prove he was he wasn't afraid it would happen, especially not when she was already partially disabled. The turtle spared a quick glance at the girl before reluctantly bowing to his master.  
  
"Let's go." He finally made his way out the door, and walked away at a quick pace, not pausing to see if Jazz had followed.  
  
****  
  
Parker impatiently checked his watch, skimming his eyes over the cramped alley. He threw his cigarette bud down and smeared it into the pavement, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the strong briefcase that rested in Chad's grip, handcuffed to his wrist for security. "You sure this is the place? They should have been here by now." The other man nodded and surveyed the guard during the next few minutes of silence. The open end of the side street was kept watch on by two of the gang's better fighters while a force of ten others was patrolling the surrounding rooftops. Chad had left the remaining member, Allison Ming, to the post of signaling between them all, knowing that she would never be one to turn her back on friend or team.  
  
"They might be watching without your knowin' it. If you keep looking around like that, our back-up won't be of much use any more!" Parker cautioned, noticing the leader's eyes darting from post to post. Chad heeded his warning, instead fixing his eyes on the darkest spot in the area as if waiting for something to pounce.  
  
"I don't trust them." His voice was harsh but soft, allowing it to reach only the dealer's ears.  
  
"They aren't the type to go back on their word. They have some strange thing about 'honor'; I've heard that some of 'em actually do themselves in for losing it." Chad took a quick glance at his partner, not taking the statement seriously. Parker didn't seem to notice and fumbled for a new cigarette, making certain to cover the flame from his lighter while holding it up. After exhaling a mouthful of smoke, he broke the silence. "Let me see the note; there's gotta be something we didn't get right." He watched as the boy dug through his pockets with his free hand, coming up with half of a wrinkled sheet and handed it off. "This is definitely the place…" he reread the sheet carefully, turning it over, searching for information that seemed to be missing. "The time's not written on here; where's the rest of it?"  
  
Chad searched his pockets again but this time came up with nothing. "Damn, I must've left it at the bar…I'm sure it said to be here by ten."  
  
Parker heaved out a sigh of frustration at the younger man. "You better start doing things professionally if you want to keep working through me! Look, it's 10:27; they would have been here by now. If you hadn't ripped the thing, then we might have known were to be and gotten her back by now! We have no way of knowing what they've done to her, or if she's even alive."  
  
"Whatever they did, she probably deserved it, but we already lost Cam and we can't afford to lose Jazz too. After all, I still owe her a pay back for last night."  
  
His partner didn't have time to reply as the faint but distinct sound of a cat's meow was heard from the small fire escape above them. Both men counted a pause of twelve seconds before the cry came again. "Trouble on the roof." Glancing up, he noticed a figure glide to the top of the building.  
  
"Right, lets head up and meet Allie. She can signal the front guard while we check things out." Chad started up the escape ladder holding the briefcase closely to his chest, as the barman made sure the way remained clear from the bottom. When both had reached the top, they followed a third cry into a shaded corner. Although the dimness concealed most of her features, Chad caught a glimpse of tan skin and moved towards it until he was staring directly into a pair of bright green eyes he knew belonged to Allie. "What's up?"  
  
She pushed a strand of her short, hazel hair from her forehead and observed the rest of the rooftop, her eyes stopping on the group of ten, not far away in a separate patch of shadow. "There's no real trouble yet, but while I was heading back this way, I noticed someone slip into the building across the street."  
  
"That could have been anybody!"  
  
"I don't think so. For one thing, he stayed so close to the shadows that I didn't even see him 'til he was going through the door."  
  
"So what's tha—" she cut him off, her voice overriding his.  
  
"Listen! The thing is, he was wearing a tight black suit! Now who does that remind you of?"  
  
The image in his mind finally made him jump to attention. "It's got to be them. Do you have any idea what they were up to?"  
  
"I told you, I only saw him for half a second; how am—" Parker, who had turned to check on the other part of the group, broke in, his voice becoming suddenly urgent.  
  
"Uh, Chad… I think you're about to find out." 


End file.
